


Break my Skin and Drain me

by crybabykaspbrak



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Blood, Blood As Lube, Blood and Gore, Bottom Eddie Kaspbrak, Cutting, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Explicit Sexual Content, Gore, Heavy BDSM, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Knifeplay, M/M, No Lube, Self-Harm, Smoking, Top Richie Tozier, Trauma, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Wound Fucking, Wound reopening, sexual use of cheek wound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:40:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26296570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crybabykaspbrak/pseuds/crybabykaspbrak
Summary: "I saw the way you looked at me when I bashed Bowers’ skull in. Saw you sneak cigarettes you thought no one would notice, saw your scars and pills. Want me to hurt you too? Huh, baby?”____________Part of Bimmyshrug and Richieblows' Labor Day Quote Challenge!"In spite of the pain, in spite of the tears and the fear, he brayed a huge donkey like hee-haw of laughter. And did Henry also sound scared? Years later, Eddie would think Yes, scared, he sounded scared."
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 44
Collections: Labor Day Book Quote Challenge (2020)





	Break my Skin and Drain me

**Author's Note:**

> This is my fic entry for @Bimmyshrug and @Richieblows Labor Day Quote Fic Challenge. I was super anxious about this (still am), and it was my first time writing a fic without a particular plan for it, but it also encouraged my to post my first Reddie fic and make new friends. <3
> 
> Thanks to @genericlesbian72 for beta reading my fic <3 You made me so much more relieved over it

The first rush of searing, dizzying pain and the sickening crunch of his forearm made Eddie feel more alive than he has his whole sheltered life. The burst of adrenaline, viscerally spiked with each beat of his heart pounding in his ears. It was a rush he sought out every time he took a broken shard of glass to his skin, as Bill had later that summer. Every time he smoked one of Bev and Richie’s cigarettes he snuck from them in secret behind the pharmacy. None of it felt like enough. No destruction or pain was as memorable and thrilling as the snap of his bones under Henry’s boot. In that moment he knew for maybe the first time that he was really alive. He was stronger than his mother insisted he was. In spite of the pain, in spite of the tears and the fear, he brayed a huge donkey like hee-haw of laughter. And did Henry also sound scared? Years later, Eddie would think Yes, scared, he sounded scared. 

He learned the sound of a scared Bowers when he heard the final whimper of life leave his corpse. His eyes were glued to the split skull, watching with feverous intent as the ragged edge of the axe was drawn out of the oozing cleave. He felt the twinge of a smirk watching Richie's arms ripple when he slammed the weapon back into Henry's head. A portion of his skull caved in with the third swing, bludgeoned brain matter fell out of the large gaps in the thin, shattered bone. The brain matter fell apart, looking like meat put through a grinder, rotten jelly fully flattened from the loss of fluid flowing out it and reddened by the broken blood vessels. The gruesome view was completely visible through the missing chunks of skull. 

“Richie! I think that’s enough!” Mike hollered, shocking the blood splattered Richie into dropping the axe directly into the puddle that was what was left of Henry Bower’s head. 

“Had to make sure that fucker stayed dead this time,” he huffed, shaking hand coming up to wipe sweat from his upper lip. 

Eddie pulled his eyes from the scene with some effort, lost in the guilt tinged joy of witnessing the end of a world with a shitstain like Bower’s and reminiscing his own experience of exposed bone breaking through the suntanned, soft skin of his forearm. His bones had looked so different from that of the skull. One would think one of your most important organs would be better protected. 

“Are you two okay?” He looked up to Richie who was helping up Mike, trying to mask the hunger in his doe eyes, lust for the man he witnessed slaughter another human- if Henry could still be considered so- bubbling up hot in his gut. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay,” Mike sighed, running his hands over his wearied face, looking more aged than he had the entire reunion. His tired expression made the grey in his coils age him rather than provide a flattering salt and pepper appearance.

“I’m alright,” Richie placed a palm over Eddie’s bandaged cheek, damp with sweat and blood, “thanks Eds. Are you alright?”

“I’m alright- and I’m in my 40s please drop the nicknames-” Eddie bit back the last word, realizing maybe the banter was too tone deaf for the current scenario. That it would give away just how little it had shaken him. 

But Richie smiled. “Isn’t Eddie a nickname?”

Eddie smiled back. “Shut up”.

The moment was broken by a cry from the entrance to the library. All three whipped around to see Bev, hands covering her mouth but doing nothing to mask her horrified expression. 

“What the hell-” Ben started, pulling Bev close to his side.

“Bowers.” The trio grimaced. “Mauling Eds wasn’t enough, he tried to fucking kill Mikey here too,” Richie sneered at the corpse, little remorse visible in the cruel judgment he cast upon the body. 

Eddie jolted awake from his dream. The same fucking dream he’s had for the two weeks since leaving Derry. The sight of Richie splattered in Henry’s blood was burned so deep in his retinas that the memory graced him with its presence and an unfortunate hard on more nights than not. He grimaced at the feeling of a heavy weight sinking the other side of the master bed. Some small part of him would rather fuck that clown’s razor teeth filled mouth than his own wife- god forbid she wake up to him in his current state. 

He slipped out of bed as gently as possible and shuffled through the dark to the bathroom door, only daring to use the brightness from his screen despite knowing that Myra sleeps like the dead, just like his mother did. He wrote it off at the Jade Orient, but Richie was right. Without even meeting her, he already knew he married the same brand of crazy, controlling bitch as his mother. Even down to choking him with an unreasonable amount of pills he doesn’t even need- or maybe didn’t need before he started taking them by the fucking mouthful. In his anger, Eddie closed the basic suburban white door too hard, startling himself- more out of fear that he would wake Son- no, Myra. 

“Eddie-bear?” Eddie reflexively gagged at the overly familiar nickname. He could hear his mother’s croon in it. 

Eddie ran through his excuses in his head. Admitting he was taking part of his massive stash of pain meds was too risky. She would wake up and fret over him too much. “I just need to pee Myra, go to sleep.” He listened for her barely awake grumble in response before slumping against the wall on the opposite side of the bathroom. 

His hand shoved down into his cotton pajama pants and gripped his hard on in his slight hand. He shoved his other hand into his own mouth to preemptively silence his moans, biting down on the meaty part of the palm with pristinely white teeth until the sting made him wince. His dry palm frantically stroked his aching cock, the image of Richie blood splattered lingering in his mind. The vicious expression on his now chiseled, grown face as he beat Bower’s brains to liquid. 

His hand jerked out of his briefs like he’d been burned. It was wrong to be jerking off to murder. It’s what he’s told himself all fucking week and had to debate if it was worse to be doing so to an actual murder or to the thoughts and dreams of Richie covered in Myra’s blood, killing Sonia, choking him. Fuck. Any of them were too fucked up. That shit was something he wanted to lock away behind a closed door just like his childhood. But just like his memories, they came right back to an overwhelming level. 

Overwhelming enough to land him cradling a glass full of the last few sips of a freshly opened whiskey bottle in an Airbnb in Los Angeles like a stalker psycho going through a midlife crisis. Which he kind of was. “Fucking crazy. I’m just going to stay tonight and go back tomorrow to…” Eddie sighed like a ton of bricks pressed on his chest and downed the rest of the glass on his walk back to the kitchen. To New York? To Myra? To his miserable closeted boring ass life? 

“Fuck!” He slammed his fist onto the counter in frustration, shattering the glass in his hand.”Shit!” He gently lifted his hand and shards of glass plinked into the puddle of blood on the tan granite counter. Clink. Clink. Clink. Tiny shards hitting the counter every time he plucked another out from his mauled palm with a tiny flinch. The longer he fixed himself up, the more difficult it became to pull out the glass as his inebriation hit him. He moaned, drunkenly twisting a shard out, panting and leaning over the counter by the time it was out. The wound was gaping and stark red and still stood out even amongst all the tiny piercings. Eddie couldn’t help but prod at the bleeding cut, pulling it open with two fingers to look into the flesh, hurt hand twitching at the touch. He could see straight into the flesh, pink muscle and yellow fat bubbly, the texture of cottage cheese, hidden by oozing blood.

The cry Eddie let out when he rinsed the blood off was loud and echoed off the walls of the kitchen. His knuckles turned white gripping onto the edge of the sink. Richie’s name mixed into his cries at some point without him realizing. He ground his hips against the cabinet and shook at the exhilarating pain and pleasure zipping through his body. “Richie-...”

A messily bandaged hand pressed down against the buzzer of the fancy apartment complex after watching his taxi turn the corner, his final chance of going back on this stupid plan. “Eddie?” He jumped at his name coming through the speaker, almost dropping his phone with the unreplied text from a week ago pulled up. 

“Hey, Richie… Can I come up?”

Eddie fiddled with his already unraveling bandages. Richie’s condo was nicer than he imagined the trash mouth living in and he felt out of place, tipsy, bandaged, and disheveled. “Sorry for just showing up… in the middle of the night... without warning…”

“Eds, you can show up anytime you want. Hell, you can have your own key.” Eddie felt his face heat up with the sink of the plush couch next to him. Familiar but much more welcome. “So, what brings you to mi casa?”

“Just had business in LA…”

“Mob business?” He grinned and took Eddie’s bandaged hand in his gently, looking over it. “Cuz it looks like you just got done beating the shit out of someone.”

Richie’s grip on his hand went from comforting to firm- wait he’s still squeezing, “R-Richie- that hurts-“ Eddie looked up to his face. It was intense, scary even. Like something snapped in him. His thick brows were low and his mouth an even line, all too calm for someone with blood seeping through onto his hand. But his eyes bore down into Eddie, making him feel like Richie could see all the fucked up shit he kept locked away. Richie’s eyes glanced down at Eddie’s hand gripping tight to his thigh just beside his crotch. 

“I don’t think you care though, do you? Now, why don't you tell me the real reason you came?”

“I don’t know…” He mumbled, rubbing at his wrist where the bandage ended. 

“I think you do know. I saw the way you looked at me when I bashed Bowers’ skull in. Saw you sneak cigarettes you thought no one would notice, saw your scars and pills. Want me to hurt you too? Huh, baby?” Riche leaned into Eddie’s space and ground the heel of his hand into his dick hard, making the man jerk and whine. His teeth brushed against his slender throat, catching the skin and biting down until Eddie cried out and tried pulling away. Richie’s tongue pressed flat against the red welt, lapping an apology against it. The rush of exquisite pain followed by gentle love zipped a chill up his spine and had his head spinning. 

Eddie swallowed thickly, all his dreams rushing back to him. He could almost feel Richie’s hand wrapping around his throat to cut off his air just like he did in his dreams. Choke him till his face turned purple and his breathing stopped while he kept fucking into him “I- I do Richie, please,” He whined and humped up against Richie’s open palm, face flushed with shame.

Richie’s lips trailed up so he could kitten lick at Eddie’s red cheeks, nipping once before muttering against the skin, “Anything for you Eds. I’m gonna make sure tears are all down this pretty face before I’m done with you. Shouldn’t have even let you go back to New York in the first place. Do you know how bad I just wanted to throw you in my trunk and leave?” He popped open the button of Eddie’s pants and yanked the slacks down just enough to yank his cock out. He cooed as the sight and dug his fingernail under the uncut foreskin around his glistening head. “Did you grow at all since we were kids, baby boy? Looks just like when I tugged you out your pjs in high school.” He ran the sharp, ragged edge of his chewed nail around the base of the head, as deep as Eddie’s foreskin allowed. Eddie’s heart jumped in his throat at the knowledge that he could have had Richie this whole time, that he had been fondling his soft dick while he slept, fully unaware. He twitched and moaned under Richie, choking on the saliva pooling in his mouth with each gasp. 

“Richie, more please,” Eddie bucked up into Richie’s hand, pulling his foreskin back at the edge and jabbing Richie’s nail deeper. His good hand wrenched Richie’s sweatpants down, already greedily grasping for his cock. He was torn away by Richie’s free hand, which caught both his wrists in its large expanse. Eddie angrily dug his nails into Richie’s hand in retaliation, “Richie I have waited fucking years to get my hands on you-”

“Be patient you fucking dick hungry gremlin, I just have one thing to do,” Eddie growled in response, which Richie smothered with a kiss. One of his hands were released from the grip so his bandaged one could be held with both of Richie’s. He cringed at the feeling of sticky, crusted blood being peeled from his palm with the gauze, pulling off scabbing blood to reopen the smaller cuts that Richie’s grip hadn’t already gotten to. Red covered his hand again, thick blood bubbling up from the cuts, trickling down the sides into Richie’s hand. Richie pressed his palm to Eddie’s, the sting of his cuts making him hiss. He watched with dilated pupils, Richie bringing his finger up to his lips to lick the metallic tasting liquid from a finger. 

Eddie’s injured hand was yanked towards Richie’s cock, rubbing against the grey sweatpants and staining them on the way. His fingers were curled for him and he whimpered at the sting.

“Better than lube,” Richie’s grin spread across his whole face. He bucked up into the blood slicked palm with a moan. His cock was stained shocking red along its impressive length. On his second buck, his head caught on the largest cut, pulling back the skin and rubbing burning precum into the wound. Eddie cried out and tried to pull back, but Richie kept a grip on his wrist to force his hand to stay in place. “Take it, fucking pain slut.”

Eddie whined and his hand shook from the burning sensation. “... Yes sir.”

“Good boy. Now do the work for daddy,” he purred, letting go and leaning back with broad arms stretched behind his head. Eddie felt drool threaten to drip from his mouth and make him look like the fucking clown. Feeling all the more hungry for him with the memory of the muscle in those arms barely contained in his leather jacket and stupid button up back in Derry, of them flexing and rippling with the force it took to bash in Bower’s brain. Eddie wondered what it would feel like to have the width of just his forearm in him. Thought of him reaching up into him to rip him apart from inside. Tear out his thundering heart and tuck it beside his own, owning it metaphorically and physically.

Richie’s groan snapped him back to reality, realizing he had been jerking him off the whole time with a squeeze tight enough to be displeasurable to most. “Should I make you suck my cock too? Make you drink up your own blood and my come? Fuck your face so deep I can jerk myself off through your throat while I choke you.” His hips snapped up into Eddie’s palm, whose other hand was being used to crush up against his own painfully hard dick. “Come so hard, so deep, it goes right into that perfectly fucked up little brain of yours.”

“Please Richie, please please. Need you in me-” Eddie cried, rubbing harder against himself, increasing the speed of the painfully dry friction. “Want you to hurt me- claim me-” he panted out, gripping his cock tight enough to bruise. 

Richie slapped Eddie hard enough that he fell backward on the couch, the impact echoing off the glass windows that exposed the inside of the condo to the city. “Oh I’ll hurt you alright baby. Never gonna forget me again. Gonna replace the worst pain and the best pleasure in your fucking life.” Richie reached for his other cheek, but instead of a slap, the medical tape covering the gauze on his cheek was ripped off in one swift pull. “Replace all your injuries with my own. Hide that anyone has ever touched you but me.” 

“This is gonna hurt, you ready? You trust me, baby?” Eddie’s eyes were huge and he was trembling like a leaf under Richie, scared and unsure of what he was planning. Still, he nodded. Richie smiled and pulled a small folded knife from his pocket, opening it with a flick of his wrist. 

“Richie- what are-”

“Shhh. Stay still.” Richie dipped the tip of his knife under one of the stitches in his cheek and pulled, making Eddie scream, his limbs constrained from flailing by Richie’s wright on them. “I said stay still,” he dug the knife into the already wounded flesh to get it further under, finally slicing away the stitch. “There we go, not so bad huh?” 

Eddie nodded, looking up at him with big watery eyes. “What was that for?” his speech was slurred trying to move his cheek as little as possible. 

“I told you, I’m making these mine.” Richie ran his finger along the cut. “I should have killed Bowers the first fucking time he put his hands on you. I fucking thought about it too. So fucking much. Bashing his head in his locker door, pushing him into the river-... He wouldn’t have gotten that stupid fucking knife in your pretty face then.” His finger dipped into the wound and Eddie muffled another cry. The tip swirled in the barely healed cut, feeling the silky flesh and the fat of his baby cheeks under the pad. “Feels like a cunt in here. Soft, warm, and wet. You’d probably let me fuck it like one too. But I wanna keep that face pretty, so just a finger.” Eddie couldn’t reply or object with the finger pressed in his cheek, not that the thought to do so crossed his mind for more than a moment. That didn’t stop him from screaming again when Richie pushed past the freshly healed inner lining of his cheek with an elastic rip, blood pooling against his gums. 

Richie kissed his cheek just beside his finger, getting his lips coated like he was wearing bright red lipstick. “It’s okay, you’re okay. I’m not gonna move, I just want you to get my finger nice and wet to fuck you open. Can you do that for me, baby?” Eddie timidly started swirling his tongue around the thick finger sticking through his cheek, tasting the metalling of his own blood on it. Blood pooled in his mouth with his saliva and he let it trickle out the side of his mouth onto the black, musky smelling pillow under his head, mixing with the hot tears rolling down his face to make it even more damp. “Messy boy.” Richie bent his finger in his mouth, relishing the stretch of the skin around him, dipping his finger into the puddle of saliva inside. 

He pulled his finger out slowly, holding the gauze right beside it to quickly cover the wound and place the tape back over it. “So good for me baby. Now you can think about me finger fucking you when you see that scar instead of that sick fuck Bowers. Isn’t that nice?” Eddie nods with his hand pressed to the gauze which was getting blood soaked from both sides. “Now turn around.” Richie gripped his hip tight enough to bruise and flipped him over, yanking his pants the rest of the way down his legs, throwing them against the wall before pulling his own pants just to his knees. A spit and blood covered finger probed at Eddie’s hole, smearing the slick around till the pink, puckered flesh was coated red.

His finger pushed in hard, all at once, knuckles grinding against his ass. Eddie moaned and humped his ass back against the intrusion. “More Richie, more more more-” Richie shoved in another dry finger, the man under him keening. “Yes- fuck it burns Richie-”

“Good.” Richie’s thick fingers scissored him open and he stared into his stretched hole, drooling at the pulsing flesh inside. He leaned forward to dip his tongue in, tasting the blood, slobbering along the skin till spit was leaking from his ass.

“That’s enough stretching for a whore,” he pulled away nice and slow to stretch out the needy, pained whines that followed from Eddie as he tried to keep fucking himself on his fingers. Richie slapped his ass hard enough for a blotchy red handprint to immediately bloom against the entire soft expanse. “Hand,” He demanded, holding his hand out next to his dick. He snatched him around the wrist when Eddie twisted his arm, pulling it further behind him with no concern for the painful angle. He used Eddie’s hand to smear the fresh blood over his cock, eyes fixated for too long on how the blood coated him, the blood sticking their skin together and pulling against his tight foreskin.

Richie used the lack of balance to push Eddie’s chest down against the blood smeared leather of the couch while still holding his wrist, further wrenching his arm back with the movement. He leaned in, whispering in his ear, “I could break your arm right now. So small… I could snap this out your shoulder just like a bird wing,” his tongue dragged along the shell of his ear, blood smeared dick rutting against Eddie’s stinging ass. “My sweet little boy.”

Eddie rolled his hips back against Richie’s throbbing cock, feeling the sticky skin catch and drag. “Richie, fuck me pleaseee,” his whine was tight and pathetically needy. 

Richie leaned back just enough to grasp his cock and line it up with Eddie’s spit slick hole, releasing his arm from his grasp. “You sure you’re ready for this sting baby? Gonna split you on this cock,” he rubbed the head in circles over the puckered rim. “Bruise your fucking insides.” He pushed the head in slow, groaning at the pain and stretch. “God, Eddie, I’ve been waiting for this since I knew what sex was. Wanted to get into and abuse this beautiful tight ass.” He thrust in hard, shoving his thick cock in as fast as the tight hold allowed with minimal stretching and sticky blood for lube. Eddie screamed into the damn pillow under him, the drag of the painful intrusion pulling streams of tears down his blotchy cheeks. Richie took no time to wait before thrusting into Eddie, the pull eliciting pained hisses from both of them. 

While Henry breaking his arm made him feel alive, having sex with Richie and being hurt by him made him feel like it was all he lived for. Every sting and ache felt like electricity zipping up his spine and through to his heart, activating all the nerves in his body. He was Richie’s. Mind and body. Blood, sweat, and tears. The drag of their flesh in him like they were fusing together and each pull was a resistance to separating. 

“I love you Richie,” a watery cry, teeth sinking into his own arm. His shirt had fallen up to his shoulders, allowing his sweaty bare chest and legs to rub against the clinging leather. The pain and pleasure left his legs trembling under him, half his weight behind held up by Richie’s bruising grip on his hips. His hips dipped enough for the leaking head of his cock against the couch covered in every other bodily fluid. 

“I love you too, Eds. So fucking much. I’m never letting you get away again,” Richie sighed, burying himself fully into Eddie’s ass. The smaller man moaned, hand flying to his stomach to press against the bulge on his stomach. 

“More Richie, more, harder-” Richie obliged, slamming balls deep into Eddie over and over, feeling the head of his cock press against Eddie’s hand on his stomach with each thrust while he stretched the soft, peach fuzz covered skin. 

“You’re gonna stay with me from now on. That’s what you want right?” Richie ground up against Eddie as if he could get any deeper. 

“I do Richie, I swear-”

“Good,” a sharp snap of his hips, “because if you tried to leave I would have to kill that bitch wife of yours and drag you back here,” he purred into Eddie’s ear, reaching around to tug slowly on his little cock. “Gut her like a fucking fish and pull out all those sick, enlarged intestines.”

Eddie squirmed under him, almost convulsing. “AH! Gonna cum- Richie-” he pant, back arching. 

“Go ahead, sweetest, let go,” Richie sped up the pumping on Eddie’s cock while slowing the drag of his own in and out of Eddie’s tight, pulsing ass. Eddie let out a shriek under him with his orgasm, coming harder than he had in his life. His head spun, vision fading in and out, mindlessly humping against the couch. He bit into his arm again to ground himself, breaking the skin so blood gushed into his mouth, covering his already blood stained teeth. 

Richie pulled out to watch Eddie’s pretty little hole flutter around nothing and his clean shaven little balls pull tight towards his taint. “So fucking perfect.” His tongue pressed against the fluttering, gaping flesh to feel it move against him and taste the delicious metallic salt, which could have been from Eddie’s hand or inside of him after the brutality. 

Eddie’s body slapped down against the messy couch in exhaustion, body shaking, covered in blood and sweat, rising and falling with deep, heavy breaths. Richie gently pet his back for a couple minutes, waiting for him to come down enough to sit up, still slowly pumping his cock. His gentle shift to help Eddie sit up elicited a cry of pain. “It’s okay Eds, just one more thing then we can rest, okay?”

Eddie heard the snap of the knife unfolding again. “Gonna make sure everyone knows you’re mine.” He dizzily watched the blurry sight of the sharp blade dig into the skin of his thigh, pressing and pressing until the skin snapped under it, blood flowing down his thigh. Eddie’s back arched up, head flying back with his scream, choking on his sobs. Richie hushed him, slightly speeding up the pump of his hand over his throbbing cock. His eyes were fixated on the splitting of the tan, shaven skin, exposing the fatty tissue underneath, the hues covered by the quick bubbling up of blood. Eddie cried and shook, feeling dangerously close to fainting, but he forced himself to stay awake to see the finished product. Richie licked away the blood, exposing an appearingly practiced “R+E” for just a moment before the blood flowed back into the incisions. 

“Isn’t it perfect?” He sighed, jerking himself off faster while Eddie curiously prodded at the cuts, scissoring them apart and dipping his finger into the blood to taste. Richie pressed the head of his dick into the blood and came with a groan, mixing hot semen into the cuts, eliciting a cry of pain from Eddie as he clamped his hand over the cut as if it would subside the stinging. 

“I love you Richie,” He choked through gritted teeth, but meant it all the same. His stained hands cupped Richie’s cheeks, smearing blood through his stubble, and smashed his lips against his, the kiss salty with the taste of his tears. 

They pulled away panting, hair matted and faces covered in bloody prints, “I love you too Eddie. You and me.”


End file.
